


Safe

by kinpika



Series: A Perfect World [1]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Frottage, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, They have a huge bathing area might as well put it to good use, Vague Spoilers, very vague
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-26
Updated: 2016-01-26
Packaged: 2018-05-16 08:53:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5822305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinpika/pseuds/kinpika
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Who knew the great prince of Nohr was so afraid of a little water?”</i>
  <br/>
  <i>“Stop talking.”</i>
</p><p>Ryouma had awful timing and the both of them knew it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Safe

**Author's Note:**

> for crane and angi ;)

“Quite happy to sit over there, aren’t you?”

Marx had no need to raise his head to recognise the voice, only heaving a sigh in response. “I will be out in a few moments.”

Echoing around the room is the _slap slap_ of feet against tiles, followed by a deep roll of laughter. “That was not an indication to leave.”

Gritting his teeth, Marx finally made eye contact with the crown Prince of Hoshido, standing over the way, hands on his hips. The normally disciplined male seemed to ignore common courtesy quite easily once they were alone. Whilst Marx (mostly) appreciated the lack of formality, this was his personal time that Ryouma was encroaching on, his muscles still tense from the battle only hours earlier. Just because Ryouma was not part of the forward march did not mean he could bother Marx, after all. 

“Then excuse me for a few more minutes.”

Ryouma clicks his tongue in that habitually annoying way of his. Tapping his foot, and looking off at some far off thing, he seemed distracted. Marx took this opportunity to sink into the bath just a little lower, until his chin was resting just above the water. 

It was the first splash that caught him off guard, and the hand that wrapped around his wrist had him flail. Ryouma’s grin was wild, unlike the one Marx had caught in rare moments in the midst of battle. Swallowing water, which he’d register later as absolutely foul, Marx couldn’t help clinging onto Ryouma for dear life. He hated swimming. Sitting in a bath was more than enough of an encounter with water than he’d like. 

“You’re a bastard,” he gasps between breaths, water still in his eyes as he wraps an arm around Ryouma’s neck. 

“Only to you,” Ryouma teases, one hand settled on the small of Marx’s back, the other holding his thigh. Marx did not think of the implications until they were floating away from the safety of the wall. It was not much deeper in the middle, but it was enough to have him seize up, fingers winding into the hair at the base of Ryouma’s neck.

“W-wait…”

“It’s fine, I’ve got you.”

Marx did not appreciate being handled like some sort of delicate maiden, but Ryouma lowered his legs to touch the tiles at the bottom, and it definitely centred him more than enough. They were almost kneeling, and Marx felt no need to distance himself just yet.

Except when Ryouma felt the need to comment. “Who knew the great prince of Nohr was so afraid of a little water?”

“Stop talking.”

Ryouma’s laughter bellows throughout the bath, and he does little but pull Marx flush against him once more. “A kiss for your saviour, my prince?”

“Only if you never mention this again.”

“On my honour.”

“Good.” 

Marx tugs at Ryouma’s hair, pulling him into a crushing kiss. He’s greedy, a trait which Ryouma does not mind indulging in the slightest, especially at moments like these. Hands sliding easily along the expanse of Marx’s back with the aid of the water, Ryouma can’t help the chuckle as Marx stiffens in his arms as his fingers slip between his cheeks. 

Watching Marx’s face, Ryouma is careful with his next move, as the tip of his finger just barely brushes his hole. Despite the ferocious colour filling his cheeks, Marx had schooled his face into a look that Ryouma assumed was supposed to be calm. Except the way he was chewing through his lower lip absolutely betrayed that notion, and as Ryouma leans in for another kiss, he gently edges his finger in.

Flattening his palms against Ryouma’s chest, Marx takes in a few quick short breaths, aware of the water now up to his chest and the most likely unlocked door and Ryouma working his finger in and out, slow and methodical. The dull burn of pleasure was still there in his belly, and he could feel Ryouma’s cock, hot and hard, against the curve of where thigh met hip. Marx shudders when a second finger presses against the rim of muscles, and he’s pulling away in an instant.

His words come out far rougher than he intended. “Not tonight.” 

Ryouma blinks rather owlishly, before his confusion turns to a look of mild displeasure. Marx doesn't miss the expression, as Ryouma slips away in the water by a few feet, and is off looking over his shoulder. He wasn’t going to deny the sudden pain at the absence either, and had to push away any desire to take it back and let Ryouma have his way.

“Ryouma —”

“It’s fine.”

“I’m marching tomorrow.”

Childish. That’s how Ryouma was acting, despite the fact that his cock was still standing at attention, his own hand running over the base of it. And he caught Marx staring for a moment too long. Narrowing his eyes at Ryouma’s challenge, Marx charges forward.

“I thought you said not tonight.”

“Just not that.”

“Ah.”

Marx takes control then, whether or not Ryouma was letting him. One hand resting against the base of Ryouma’s throat, with his thumb stretched just enough to brush his collarbone, the other sitting firmly on his hip, guiding him back. It’s the hiss from Ryouma that lets him know they’ve reached the end of the bath, and Marx smooths his hands over the offended area of skin. 

“Sit up,” is all he murmurs, and Ryouma compiles with some agression towards him being ‘far too pushy’. Except it’s lost when Marx pushes Ryouma until he’s flat against the cold tiles, and rest himself on the seat at the edge of the bath.

Ryouma likes how Marx is nothing if not determined when it comes to anything remotely sexual, and especially likes it when he doesn’t mess around, wrapping his lips over the head of Ryouma’s cock without any prompting. Fingers dig into Ryouma’s thighs, as he spreads his legs further. Chewing on his bottom lip, Ryouma tries to muffle some of the sounds he was making, breaking the skin when Marx runs his tongue from base to tip and down again.

“Finally putting that mouth to good use,” Ryouma laughs out, unable to help himself. 

Thankfully, Marx had heard it only one too many times before, and simply sends Ryouma a glare. It has little to no effect on him, as Marx is sucking in his cheeks a beat after, pressing himself as far as he could go, until his nose is pressing against bone. Close, Ryouma was dangling far too close, as Marx’s hands had left his legs, only to wander lower, cupping his balls. Thumb pressed against the skin between cock and ball, Ryouma’s left leg twitches, and Marx nearly chokes from laughter.

Leaning forward, thankful to get off the cold, Ryouma winds a hand into Marx’s hair, and pulls him off. Far too close. “I can’t explain this if you die.”

“I would not have been the first prince of Nohr to go this way.”

“That just begs for more questions.”

Finally, the first genuine smile Ryouma had received that night. Had it not been for the smear of precome on Marx’s lips, nor the flushed cheeks or half-lidded eyes, Ryouma would’ve found it beautiful. Instead, it sent all matter of blood rushing back to his cock, and with a groan, he wrapped ring finger and thumb around the base to stop himself. 

Pressing himself up, Marx is towering over Ryouma now, the twist on his lips more like his younger brother than his own. For a moment, Ryouma is floored that he thought of the younger prince of Nohr at a time like this, until Marx presses his thighs together just so. Recognising the position instantly, Ryouma wants to make a snap remark about it, yet Marx presses closer. Slipping his cock between Ryouma’s thighs, and with an encouraging slap makes him press harder, Marx spies the look on Ryouma’s face with a laugh. 

“You’re marching tomorrow as well, do not forget. It would not do well for either of us to be unfit for battle.”

“I will remember this, my good prince.”

“As will I, my lord.”

Marx almost melts at the heat that surrounds him. Not quite what he truly wanted, but it was enough, water and precome making Ryouma’s skin slippery, and with the way he trembled around him; if Marx closed his eyes, it was just like sinking into Ryouma’s ass. Lowering himself a little more, at the first brush of his cock against Ryouma’s, Marx jerks at the touch. Then does it again, and once more, until Ryouma has one hand wrapped around his cock, the other hand keeping a very firm grip on Marx’s arm. No longer shy about the noises, Ryouma arches and moans and groans, hissing and aching as he can see behind his eyelids Marx thrusting into him, clenching his ass at the thought. 

“Faster,” he heaves, as Marx moves Ryouma’s legs over his waist. Marx’s lower half now presses flush with his, Ryouma’s fingers wrapped around the both of their cocks as they move together.

Ryouma catches the signs from Marx first, and twists his fingers just so, just the way Marx liked it particularly. Voice catching in his throat, Marx stills as he comes, a low groan resounding from somewhere deep in his belly. Grinning, Ryouma’s hand is joined by Marx, and with an encouraging moan in his ear, Ryouma comes last. 

Head falling against Ryouma’s shoulder, Marx gasps as the last few shudders leave him. Good, he felt… good. The tension in his shoulders was still there from the day’s battle, and he burned something fierce from head to toe but he felt good. Ryouma’s head falls against the tiles with a louder sound than was probably necessary, and he waved off the look of mild concern in an instant. 

Raising himself up onto his elbows, Marx looked between them, at the softened cocks and trails of come up both of their chests, and just sighed. “We need another bath.”

Ryouma had a mildly concerning twinkle in his eye, as if there was absolutely no exhaustion in his bones, and pressed himself up until he was a hair’s breadth away. Rolling his eyes, Marx gave him one last look of utter disbelief, before accepting the kiss, mouth moulding onto Ryouma’s like they’d been lovers for years.

**Author's Note:**

> ryoumarxxxxxxx kills me every time


End file.
